Badger to the Bone

by Shelly Laurenston

  “Fine,” he growled. “We’ll come back in the morning. Ask questions.”

  “Politely,” his brother insisted. “We’ll ask questions politely.”

  Fuck polite. He didn’t do polite.

  A hand fell on his shoulder and his brother softly insisted, “I’m sure she’s fine.”

  “She better be,” he said, starting the engine. “Or I’m going to kill them all.”

  chapter TWELVE

  Zé woke up with Max staring down at him, her body resting against his.

  “You were wonderful last night,” she purred.

  “Don’t even try it,” he told her, sitting up and pushing her off with his arm. “I know for a fact that I didn’t drink enough of that foreign beer you guys had in your fridge to forget anything that might have happened with you.”

  She rolled onto the couch with a laugh. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

  “If it makes you feel better.” He yawned, scratched his head, and was a little relieved to see they were both wearing their clothes from the day before. “Where did you go last night?”

  “Just around.”

  Zé frowned, motioned to his cheek. “You have something on your face.”

  She wiped at it with the back of her hand. “Oh. Yeah. That’s honey.”

  “Are there going to be pissed-off bears this morning?”

  “Probably.” She tapped his leg. “You still freaked out about me?”

  “Less so.”

  “Good. Then let’s get ready and we can go buy you that phone. And breakfast.”

  “Shit.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know where the clothes we got yesterday are. I think we left them in Staten Island.”

  “Nah. Nelle had them brought here by . . . somebody. I mean, she just tells people to deliver things and . . . they do.” She leaned in and whispered, “There is a world that rich people exist in that I have no idea about.”

  “How rich is she?”

  “It’s not her so much as her entire family. It’s family money. And there is a lot of both, meaning she has a shit-ton of cousins and a shit-ton of money. Beyond just a few million.”

  “But she grew up in Wisconsin—”

  “That’s one of their homes.”

  “—and plays basketball for the—”

  “Wisconsin Butchers!” Then, she balled up her fists and growled out, “Goooooo, Butchers! Ar! Ar! Ar! ”

  Zé leaned back. “What was that?”

  “Our team chant.”

  “That last part sounded like a seal bark.”

  “Gee. Thanks.” She jumped up from the couch and spun around to face him. There was so much energy in Max, she was starting to remind Zé of one of those crazy little dogs that race from room to room because their owners don’t walk them enough. “Let’s go. Your clothes are probably upstairs.”

  Zé began to stand as well but spotted someone peeking around the corner of the living room entryway. He was going to point the stranger out to Max when the man spoke first.

  “How’s my sweetie pie?”

  Max’s habitual smile disappeared and her brows lowered so much they nearly reached the tip of her nose.

  With parts of her face twitching, Max opened her mouth and fangs abruptly replaced her teeth. Not the way he expected either, with two fangs on top and two on the bottom. Instead her entire mouth was filled with fangs. They weren’t huge but there were so many that the damage they’d do would be devastating.

  Then, without turning around, Max snarled, “Dad?”

  * * *

  Max faced her father. “Have you lost your fucking mind? Coming here? Again? Dougie was already here looking for you!”

  “Okay, before you get hysterical—”

  “I don’t get hysterical,” she reminded him. “I just kill things. And you’re a thing I’m feeling the need to kill.”

  “I’m still your father.”

  “Are you fucking kidding?” She looked at Zé. “Is he fucking kidding?”

  Knowing the poor cat wouldn’t have an answer, and not caring either way, she again looked at her father. Freddy MacKilligan. Conman. Thief. Idiot.

  “You need to go.” Thankfully Charlie had spent the night at Berg’s house across the street. But she’d be back soon since she liked baking in her own kitchen and she’d promised the Kapowski brothers honey buns for the next week to make up for Zé trying to eat their offspring. So if Charlie found Freddy MacKilligan in their home when she got back . . . there would be blood. And body parts. And a sobbing Stevie who would never recover from seeing her sister kill her father; she seemed to care about that sort of thing!

  “Get out now.”

  “I’d love to.” Her father shrugged. “But I need some cash.”

  Max again snapped. “Are you fucking kidding me?” She was trying to keep her voice down since Stevie was upstairs with her panda, but her father was testing the strength of her will not to kill him. “I’m not giving you any money.”

  “Fine. I’ll ask your baby sister. She’s upstairs, right?”

  He turned to go bother Stevie but Max grabbed her father by the throat, yanking him back. She knew she was squeezing his neck harder than was necessary, but she couldn’t help herself. Plus, he was a honey badger. She’d have to do a lot more than that to kill her father. But at the very least, she could hurt him. She enjoyed hurting him because he so richly deserved to be hurt.

  With her hand still on his throat, she forced her father to bend backward until she could look him in the eyes.

  “You’re going to get out of here and you’re not going to come back. Or I’ll kill you and bury you under the house. We both know I’ll do it. Just test me.”

  To make her point, she shoved him down so he landed hard on the floor. But he was up quickly, unleashing his own fangs and stepping into her. They banged their foreheads together and snarled, drool pooling on the hardwood floor, their claws out, ready to slash.

  Max had always been able to anger her father in ways that Charlie never could and Stevie never would. Because Max had no issues that he could toy with. She barely had a conscience. To her, taking out her father would be just one more thing she had to hide from her sisters so feelings wouldn’t get hurt. Freddy knew that Max was the biggest threat to his well-being because Max truly did not give a fuck.

  She decided in that moment that maybe it was just time to get the loser out but she didn’t have a chance.

  Zé suddenly grabbed Freddy by the hair and yanked him up and out, dragging him toward the front of the house. Following them, she watched Zé yank open the front door.

  “She told you to leave,” he said, kicking the security door open. “So you should do that.”

  He tossed her father out of the house like so much trash, slammed the door, and locked it.

  Zé faced her. “What an asshole!”

  Max nodded. “Yeah. He is.”

  “He didn’t even do anything. But just the sight of him . . .”

  “Irritated you.”

  “Yes! Just the sight of him irritated me.”

  “Yeah. That’s my dad. He does great with full-humans. But shifters aren’t fans . . . except our mothers.”

  Zé cringed. “Why?”

  “Dude . . . if I knew why, I’d tell you.” Max went to the door, pushing past Zé. She unlocked it and opened it again. Her father was standing in front of the house now and she could tell just by looking at him that he was about to start screaming. Just to get Stevie’s or Charlie’s attention.

  She stepped out of the house but didn’t have to go any farther because her saviors were right there.

  “Hey, Kapowskis!” she called out to the four grizzly bears about to drive their kids to shifter summer day camp—including the one almost eaten by Zé. “If you want my sister to have those honey buns ready for you when you get back”—she pointed at her father—“he needs to go.”

  Those big grizzly heads turned, those cold brown ey
es locked on Freddy MacKilligan, and their grizzly humps abruptly grew, giving their already powerful arms and shoulders even more strength.

  Freddy glared at his daughter. “You evil little—aaaaaaaaaah-hhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” he screamed, running from the four bears chasing him down the Queens, New York, street.

  With a smile, Max went back inside and closed the front door.

  “All done.”

  “What about those kids?” Zé asked, pointing at the cubs through the front windows of the sun room. “Should we leave them outside like that?”

  “They’ll be fine. Every bear mom in this neighborhood is genetically tuned to the cries of any cub under threat. And one of those kids is the one you tried to eat, so I’m not sure his dad would want him in here . . . with you.”

  Zé glared. “Thanks for that.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said, ignoring the sarcasm in his tone. “And thanks for your help.”

  Max headed back into the living room and found Stevie standing there in one of Shen’s way-too-big Pittsburgh Steelers T-shirts.

  “Dad?” she asked.

  Max nodded. “Yeah. Dad. Sor—”

  “No. Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything. What did he want anyway?”

  “What else? Money.”

  She nodded at Zé, who’d followed Max into the room. “Hey, Zé.”

  “Hey, Stevie. You okay?”

  “I’m going to be fine.” She held her hand out. “Gimme your phone.”

  Max let out a sigh. “Dude, don’t give him any money.”

  “I’m not. I’m doing something I should have done a long time ago.”

  Handing over her phone, Max asked, “What?”

  “I’m going to rat him out to Uncle Will. Let his brother deal with him the way he’s always wanted to: brutally.”

  Max couldn’t help but be shocked by that response. Well . . . that response from Stevie. No one in the family had ever thought she’d be the one to tell Uncle Will.

  “You’re going to call Uncle Will? Are you sure you want to do that?”

  “I am not letting our sister’s therapy go to waste. She has been doing so well.”

  Max winced a little, glancing at Zé. “Yes, let’s tell the world our sister’s in therapy.”

  Stevie stopped searching for Will’s number in Max’s phone to glare at her. “I’m in therapy. Are you embarrassed by that, too?”

  “I’m not embarrassed by you or her being in therapy, but perhaps she doesn’t want the world to know.”

  “That sounds like shame.”

  “That is not shame.”

  “I’ve been in therapy a few times,” Zé suddenly announced and both sisters looked at him. He shrugged. “PTSD. When I was a Marine. You know . . . being shot at. Things blowing up around me. It takes its toll.”

  “See?” Stevie said, again searching for Will’s number. “He has no shame.”

  “I’m not asham—”

  Max stopped what was about to turn into a tirade. She wasn’t going to let her father and sister get under her skin. Not today!

  “I’m going upstairs to take a shower and then buy him”—she pointed at Zé—“a new phone.”

  “Did I ask you what you were going to do?” Stevie demanded. “Because I don’t really care what you’re going to do!”

  * * *

  It took all of thirty seconds but the sisters went from general sadness about having such a weirdly irritating father to screaming at each other. So much screaming that Zé couldn’t understand a word they were saying.

  He thought about stepping in before the two could come to blows but that seemed like a bad idea. Zé had already seen Max’s fangs. He didn’t need to see them again.

  Behind them, though, standing outside the window in the yard, stood Shen. He waved at Zé, urging him to come over.

  Zé looked at the sisters, then back at Shen, but Shen motioned again. He walked through the house and out the back door to meet Shen.

  “Morning,” Shen greeted.

  “Hey. You needed me?”

  “No.”

  “Then why did you tell me to come outside?”

  “Oh, because you don’t want to get in the middle of a MacKilligan sister fight. For a second there, you looked like you might.”

  Zé glanced back at the house and nodded. “You know, I sensed that wouldn’t be a good idea.”

  “Instincts, man. You’ve lived this long because of your instincts. Trust them. Besides, it always gets like that when their father comes around. Especially if Charlie’s not there for them to focus on instead.”

  “They’re trying to keep it from Charlie.”

  “Probably a good idea. She really hates her father.”

  “I’ve only met him once, but I get that.”

  “Anyway, it’s better if you stay out here with me.” Shen held up what he had been holding in his hand. “Bamboo?”

  Zé shook his head, forcing himself to not look disgusted about a man offering him what seemed to him to be nothing more than a piece of a cheap chair, and simply replied, “No, thanks.”

  Shen motioned behind him. “Wanna climb a tree with me? ”

  At that point, Zé couldn’t do anything but look as confused as he felt. “Why the hell, as an actual adult, would I want to climb a tree with another man?”

  Shen simply looked at the tree and so did Zé. It was a good-sized tree with a wide trunk. The branches were extremely thick and covered in lush leaves.

  “Oh, my God,” Zé gasped out. “I want to climb that tree.”

  “At this time of day, it’s best to do it as human. But at night . . . all bets are off.”

  “Pandas climb trees?”

  “I don’t really climb,” Shen admitted. “I just hang from the lower branch and eat my bamboo.”

  “And that makes you happy?”

  “Stevie makes me happy. Hanging from a tree limb and eating bamboo . . . ? That’s just an enhancement to my happy.”

  chapter THIRTEEN

  Max watched her sister disconnect the call with Uncle Will. Their father had ripped off the Scottish side of the MacKilligans for one-hundred-million Sterling. One of the dumbest things that anyone could do. Honey badgers were not exactly known for their forgiving nature, but they were known for their love of money. They liked the security it provided, and if they had to break the law to ensure they had cash, they were willing to do that. Mostly because they were good at it.

  They could break into—and out of—almost anything and had no problem working with full-humans. In fact, most badgers lived their entire existence among full-humans, avoiding the shifter world outside their own families.

  When Max asked her mother why their kind did that, why they didn’t happily join in to all the things the shifter world offered—the restaurants, the sports, the shopping and, most importantly, the protection—she’d only smiled and said, “Because they can smell us coming a mile away.”

  Max had only been seven when she’d asked that question, so she’d taken her mother literally. Of course other shifters could smell honey badgers coming a mile away! Especially if they unleashed their anal glands! But that wasn’t what her mother had meant.

  Unlike full-humans, shifters knew better than to trust honey badgers. One never knew when a badger was going to get “fed up with your bullshit” and suddenly just slap the shit out of you or decide “I didn’t like the look on your face” and rip it off or one day simply steal everything you own because “you didn’t look like you really needed that Ming vase.”

  Of course, not all honey badgers were like that, but as Max’s teammates had shown her, it wasn’t always easy to completely remove oneself from a honey badger family.

  Even she and her sisters had realized that. No matter how much the MacKilligans on both sides of the Atlantic had made it abundantly clear they wanted nothing to do with Max, Stevie, and Charlie . . . here their relatives still were. Annoying Max and her sisters.

  Of course, once Will g
ot his money back from their dad—or he killed their dad—they would no longer have to deal with their cousins and aunts and uncles. That’s what Charlie and Stevie seemed to believe, but Max wasn’t so sure.

  Max watched her baby sister’s face and knew that she was torturing herself. She had that look she got when she was worried about all the things that could go wrong. Like when she checked herself into a German hospital because she was giving herself panic attacks over Ebola. She’d made the mistake of reading an article about it. Just a general informational thing, but there’d been enough statistics in it for Stevie to figure out exactly how long it would take for the virus to completely wipe out the entire human population. Most scientists could and probably did figure out the same thing, but those same scientists went on about their day. Maybe made plans for their families if something bad ever happened. But not Stevie. She wanted to save the world and when she realized she couldn’t do that without the help of “worthless and uncaring human beings” she had a complete and utter meltdown.

  She was in that therapeutic facility for four months before she was ready to check herself out. The psychiatrists were ready to release her after a month, once they got her on meds that helped control her ongoing panic attack, but Stevie kept telling them and Charlie, “I still need time. I’m not ready.”

  It was what-ifs that made Stevie a brilliant scientist. It was also what made her “sick” sometimes. Max had realized that after knowing Stevie for less than six months, when they still expected her She-tiger mom to come back and get her daughter. Over the years, though, Max had found ways to distract her sister from her anxiety. Some worked most of the time, but only one way worked all of the time. Out of necessity, that was the one she used.

  Sitting down at the table, leaning back in the chair, Max accused, “You’re going to open your big mouth to Charlie, aren’t you?”

  Stevie lifted her gaze from the table. That deep-in-thought, I’m-about-to-flip-out gaze.

  “No, I’m not.”

  “You are,” Max insisted. “She’s gonna walk through the door, and as soon as you see her, you’re going to start running your fucking mouth.” Max did that thing Stevie really hated. She scrunched up her face and began speaking in a high-pitched voice that she always told Stevie was exactly how she sounded. It wasn’t, but that didn’t matter. Not at the moment. “‘Nan-nan-nan-nan-nannnnn. Oh, Charlie, he was here. I don’t know what to do. Wah-wah-wah!’ As soon as she comes in this fucking house!”